


That's not Faygo, Danny

by Demon_Cookie101



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M, Poisoning, Reef's bodyguard Au, baffled somewhat traumatic inner thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12030732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Cookie101/pseuds/Demon_Cookie101
Summary: The liquid in the glass you’re holding looks so innocent, just some plain ol’ faygo and mulled wine concoction (whoever was mixing actually got the ratio right holy shit), but now that you’re really looking (careless, careless), it sparkles very faintly at the bottom.Fic based off of Lightingupthereef's Bodyguard AU (again)





	That's not Faygo, Danny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lightingupthereef](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lightingupthereef).



> This fic was based off of this: http://lightingupthereef.tumblr.com/post/164956764836/that-bodyguard-comic-about-eridan-being-poisoned  
> and this one: http://lightingupthereef.tumblr.com/post/162884910146/bodyguard-sketch-comic  
> (Sorta at least)
> 
> I love this AU its gr8

It’s absurd, the feeling in your chest right now.

The liquid in the glass you’re holding looks so innocent, just some plain ol’ faygo and mulled wine concoction (whoever was mixing actually got the ratio right holy shit), but now that you’re really looking (careless, careless), it sparkles very faintly at the bottom. You can’t identify it just like this (your eyes feel tired now, but you made _sure_ you had a nap before this event so that you wouldn’t be tired, so what is it?) and you know for a fact that Sollux checked everything on the table before you even went near it.

You tilt the glass with a frown, trying to place what that sparkle is. It could just be decoration, you know that some drinks have that shiny sparkly sheen to it but that’s normally served only on really special occasions, not some violet’s social gathering.

If it weren’t for the weird feeling in your chest you’d just brush it off, but it’s getting worse, like something’s tied around your ribs (sore sore ow your gills hurt, why?) and is getting tighter. Like a corset gone wrong and you realise, with a sense of vague surprise, that you’re nearly gasping for breath. Quietly, no one’s looking at you (good good stay that way this is _embarrassin’_ you will _not_ be seen losin’ your shit over a fuckin’ drink thanks) but you can feel something weird _in_ your chest, like that time you got a fishbone stuck in your throat but… more suffocating and less sharp.

You cough, feel your gills spasm beneath your clothes and the glass drops from your numb fingers. There’s something on your lips, your fingers come away purple when you touch it. It doesn’t smell like blood, but it looks like it.

You don’t have much time to ponder what it could be before your legs give out and you fall to the floor.

Or at least, your body attempts to. You feel something catch you, see the red and blue of psionics and feel, a second later, warm hot too hot hands on your shoulders.

Sollux looks confused and horrified (he would be, your death means his death and ah shit. Fef’s gonna kill you double dead for makin’ a scene again after your last… outburst) and you think he’s saying your name, saying _something_ , but you can’t hear it.

You can’t breathe, either. Your gills are trying to take on the job but they can’t there’s no water you can’t breathe you’re choking what _the fuck did you drink?!_ Your mouth is open, trying to do its damn job of helping you _breathe_ but all that happens is you wheezing and clawing feebly at your chest as if ripping open your clothes and your ribs will help your lungs get the air they need.

You manage to draw in a breath, but only just. You never thought you’d experience drowning (you’re a _seadweller_ you barely even acknowledge it as a thing that happens half the time), but if this is what it feels like, not being able to breathe, not being able to get air through either respiratory system…

If you live through this you need to apologise to Sollux for pretending to drag him under the water that one time, because if this is drowning (air there’s no air what the fuck help) you can understand why he was afraid.

There’s another guard in your vision now, a brownie with fucked up horns and you really can’t deal with this embarrassment on top of not being able to breathe. This is seriously going to fuck with your public image, there’s the weird purple goopy shit all down your chin now and it’s _never going to come out._

The coughing sends more of that shit down your chin, and the sparkles that are dancing at the edge of your vision are joined by black dots. It’s getting harder and harder to see, to feel, to do _anything._

You don’t want to die.

You want Fef. You want your moirail.

The last thing you see are Sollux’s eyes, but then the blackness takes that away too.

 

* * *

 

You don’t realise you’re awake. It’s more like, you’re aware that you can actually see something, and you become gradually aware of that fact that _everything hurts_.

There’s something covering your nose and mouth, you can’t breathe at all through either, and it takes a few moments (you can’t panic, there’s somethin’ blockin’ you you can’t can’t do it why what is it) before you realise that your gills are working. There’s something supplying water you can actually breathe with around your gills because the rest of you doesn’t feel submerged.

You cough, the action feeling all the more weird with your mouth being sorta outta the count right now.

Everything feels like you’ve undergone some kind of surgery to have your limbs replaced with rocks, your eyelids feel like you’ve got the weight of one too many worlds attached to them when you blink. It’s hard to open them again, but you need to.

You want to know what happened.

You cough again, and your fins twitch. There’s footsteps, then two sets of hands. One too hot, the other colder than you.

 _Fef_.

The noise you make that is _supposed_ to be her name is utterly ridicules. Did you really just make that sound? _Really_?

“Shh. Shh. Don’t move, guppy. The poison isn’t fully out of your system yet. The medication is helping, but it’s not fully gone yet.” You can’t see her very well, where are your glasses?

You feel more than see the psionics that crackle around your face (it must be Sollux, then, the other set of hands. Or maybe Fef’s bodyguard, the rusty. Aradia?) and then you feel the hard frames settle on your face. It helps clear your vision a little bit, but not enough. Everything’s still fuzzy.

You cough again, irritated with both the feeling and the fact that you still can’t move. Screw the poison, you want to move, to sit up, to hold your damn moirail because this is _scary_ and you don’t want to be alone. Her voice is one thing, you want to be able to hold her hand because sometimes, voices are lies.

You think she understands the weak flicks of your fins, because she takes your hand, and you sense the bed you’re lying on dip by your hip. It’s not enough and too much at once. Your breath hisses out through your teeth, the movement, that single fuckin’ movement of the bed dipping, makes your skin feel like it’s burning, itchy and is this the remains of the poison?

You don’t realise you’ve closed your eyes until you try to open them again.

You’re so _tired._

Fef leans over slightly and brushes your hair back from your face (oh god, oh god you probably look _ridicules_ you hope no one else has seen you because this will seriously be a hit to your image right now, if the spectacle you made of yourself… whenever the party was hasn’t already done so). She’s shaking, just slightly, and you squeeze her hand with whatever strength you have.

Your mouth still isn’t working. Whatever’s plugged up your nose and mouth is keeping you from properly speaking as well.

You see Sollux’s fuzzy outline to your left, and further back, something vaguely red and black. Aradia must be in here as well then, by the door probably since your bodyguard is busy (most likely) making faces at you for this shit.

You hope he didn’t get in trouble.

“We haven’t yet found the perthon who thlipped the poithon into your drink, but we’re working on it. Whoever did it mutht have done it right before you picked up the glath, becauthe the other oneth were checked and came back poithon free.”

You think he touches your other hand, squeezing your fingers briefly.

“You’ll get to ask questions later, just sleep for now, ocray?” You look back at Fef, even if the movement is barely even a tilt of your head.

“Jutht thleep, before you thomehow make yourthelf worthe.” You flick your fins at Sollux and hear Fef’s snort of amusement at the meaning, but you don’t catch anything else from either of them after that.

Sleep comes as easy as falling unconscious did, but this time you go with the weight of your moirail on one side and with the feeling of being watched on the other.

It’s more comforting than you thought it would be.

 

* * *

 

You’re released from intensive care two weeks (and after a lot of arguing) later. You find out you had been unconscious (either forced or from the effects of the poison, you’ve heard both as reasons) for nearly three. The poison had been plant based, and had been designed to attack the respiratory system. Your gills healed quicker than your lungs, which was how you came about having bubbles of water around your gills so you could breathe.

The next party you attend with Fef has those fancy, stupidly expensive wines that glitter when held up to the light.

You don’t touch them.


End file.
